Just as everything must begin somewhere, so everything must come to an end, and now our summer has too. The kids are back in school, Ilir’s back at work, and I must start to face my new life of being on sick leave, rather than pretend I’m on some sort of extended holiday. While everyone was off it was one thing, I could hide behind the beautiful weather and having the kids around. I got wrapped up in trying to give them some sort of family holiday that they would enjoy, rather than actually accept this new reality of mine. Now I can’t really do that anymore, and it’s painful, but necessary to accept, to face life head-on.
I keep thinking, maybe I can take something up? Like crocheting, or cooking or… god knows what. It’s hard to think of myself as not being useful, but I know that most likely I wont take up crocheting or cooking, or anything else. I can’t walk the kids to or from school as it’s too far for me on most days. The truth is, there really isn’t much I could do. Oh but that’s probably not true, I’m making up a sad story that features me as a victim, and telling it to myself. How the brain loves a bit of drama, and being the victim is quite seductive. I mustn't fall into that trap. Ok, maybe I wont be taking up crocheting - my fingers are stiff and aching from the side effects of chemo, and writing on a keyboard is about all I can manage. Still, I can do other things. Indeed, I must do other things, I must keep myself busy as much as I can, and not drift into the temptation of wallowing in self pity.
Seeing everyone off this morning was painful, but it’s a sort of pain I’m grateful for. It was me facing reality rather than pretending, which I value and appreciate. The reality is that I feel quite lost without my work, I feel as if I have no real place in the world. I miss both my job and my colleagues, but most of all, I miss the person I am when I’m working. I miss being an active parent in my children’s lives, I miss a life where I worried about putting myself together in the morning and weather or not I had a dress ready for the day. I miss being frustrated with my hair for not cooperating with me… But these are feelings I must face, without self pity, and accept and then move forwards. By pretending they don’t exist, I give them so much more power, and without really noticing, I feel sorry for myself. The brain might love a bit of drama and victimising oneself, but no good will come of it, I’ve seen it (and criticised it) in others too many times.
School started yesterday for the boys, finally all three of them are together in one place again. After every summer, the school starts with a speech in the yard, and some ice cream for the kids, and parents present. Last year I had forgotten, and thought it was an ordinary day at school, so I had work planned and ended up standing there quite stressed and without a good plan for what to do with the kids. This year, I was prepared and present, ready to really be there for my kids. Only to be facing each of their teachers, looking at me with sad, empathic eyes, asking me how I was bearing up, and telling me I looked quite well, you know - all things considered. I wasn’t actually a parent there after all, I was a cancer patient, and I hated it. One teacher reassured me that the kids wouldn’t have to talk about their summer - naturally she thought it had been horrid and that he wouldn’t want to talk about it. And I thought “But he’s had a lovely summer, he wants to tell you all about it!”... It’ll take some getting used to, being seen as just the cancer and not me as a parent, but ironically, if I want to be an active parent I must get used to it and not allow it to push me away from being part of their school life.